


Us, Wot's Left

by RoraM



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 22:37:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3428090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoraM/pseuds/RoraM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Told from Sera's point of view, this short story takes place post Dragon Age: Inquisition and depicts how the Inquisitor has handled Solas' departure.  It was originally posted on January 7, 2015 on the Fan Fiction site of the BioWare Forum.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Us, Wot's Left

“That’s the word out of Halamshiral.” Sera, listening, hung back in the stairway, covered plate in hand still warm from the kitchens.

“Is that why Celene keeps sending ale-fattened ram? I’m not complaining, my men haven’t eaten better in weeks, but it’s hardly what she must have intended. You’d think she’d know about elves and meat.”

“We need to quash these rumours of wasting sickness; already the wolves lie waiting in the shadows and Celene is right to be worried. Let’s make it known Inquisitor Lavellan will be touring Inquisition holdings in the Western Approach. That will buy us some time.”

“To do what, Leliana? Lady Vivienne’s herbs remain untouched. Apparently, the Inquisitor detests tea.”

“Perhaps they need to find another way to her, Josie. One word to the kitchens-”

“I won’t be party to deceiving the Inquisitor. The healers can find nothing wrong. I agree with the idea of sending her out west, but I have every confidence she’ll get through whatever this is,” Sera heard the sternness in Cullen’s voice and pictured him glaring at the spymaster, “on her own.”

They’d be coming out soon. The Antivan chocolate was still in its box where she had left it on Josephine’s desk. _Good. Back to the tavern, then._

As the chocolate melted in its little pot over the candle flame, Sera caught herself singing- _Sera was never an agreeable girl…gah! Andraste’s blessed arse! Can’t that Maryden sing something else? Catchy tune, though…_

That gentle tap at the door never ceased to surprise her. _Maker’s balls, the woman's taken down dragons. Ten of them. And finished off a couple of them single-handed. Felt like a right tit when I woke up and it was all over._

“I think I’ve cracked it. This time. ‘Us’ cookies,” she announced, cheerfully, as the door opened. She looked over at the Inquisitor. The woman had always been thin, but now Sera could swear she was almost transparent. All eyes. Sera went back to minding the chocolate so the Inquisitor wouldn’t see her worry. Too hot and it would seize and no amount of butter would bring it back.

“You know what they say: tenth time’s a charm,” her friend said wryly.

“Well, yeah. You _need_ the cookies. Have you seen yourself?”

“I’m fine, Sera.”

“Anderfels butter. Nevarran black sugar. And, the _pest dee resistonz_ , spiced Antivan chocolate.” She removed the napkin with a flourish, which earned her a laugh. _Good. Lavellan needed to laugh more often._

They ate on their usual rooftop. Sera glared at the half-eaten cookie on the Inquisitor’s napkin, the once-steaming mug of tea now cooling, untouched. Already, the elf was staring absently at the distant scar in the cloudless sky. Sera growled, then hurled her own cookie, nearly hitting one of Leliana’s ravens, who cawed back, indignantly.

“It’s still friggin' _Sol-arse_ , innit? And that’s probably not even his real name. Why you’d change your face for that smug, selfish, son of a-“

“She remembers cinnabar-stained fingertips tracing paths on skin by firelight. She feels new, like-" 

“Shut it, Creepy. No one wants to hear it. Least of all, her.” Just like Cole to poke his nose where it wasn't wanted.

“She hurts. She thinks if she dreams enough, she’ll find him. Or he’ll find her. She wants to forget, but can’t. Or won’t.”

“Stop messin' about in her head. I’m warning you…”

“Let him help, Sera. I’ve kept too much to myself these past weeks.” Sera was too startled by the Inquisitor's sudden return to the present to finish her threat. She looked over to the pale, not-boy, who her friend had come to resemble more and more, and nodded warily.

“Fragrant moss. Just as he likes. She lets water, warm, wash over her. Wait. Something’s wrong. Red. Blood in scented bathwater. She stands up, more red trickling down her thighs. She thought the pain would be sharper, but it’s dull, steady, unstoppable. 'No, not this, too.' She covers her mouth with both hands so no one will hear. 'Don’t take this, too.'”

Sera could feel tears streaming down her cheeks. She wanted to punch Cole for showing her this pain. No, the Inquisitor, for holding this to herself all this time while worrying half of Thedas. No. She wanted to punch that heartless bastard. _Sol-arse._

“I’m ready to forget, Cole.”

“Forget what, Inky? Tea’s not going to drink itself.” Sera watched with satisfaction as the elf-woman took a long gulp from her mug, finished off the rest of her cookie and bit into another. “About time, yeah, because, you know, rain." She frowned, touching her cheek before breaking back into a wide grin. "Good, innit? So, when are we headed west?”


End file.
